


Prison Bitch

by MothMeetsFlame



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Dean, Claiming, Claiming Bites, Coming Untouched, Dubious Consent, Episode: s02e19 Folsom Prison Blues, Exhibitionism, M/M, One Shot, Possessive Sam, Prison Sex, Public Claiming, Rough Sex, Sibling Incest, Top Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-26
Updated: 2016-09-26
Packaged: 2018-08-17 10:06:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8140099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MothMeetsFlame/pseuds/MothMeetsFlame
Summary: Prompt: Prison fic with Dean forced to be Sam's bitch to keep them both out of trouble until they can escape. "Dean hesitated for a split second before remembering that this whole thing was his idea in the first place. Sam had adamantly refused to take part in all of this, but Dean had pushed it until Sam had no choice but to comply. No matter how easily Sam seemed to fall into the role, Dean only had himself to thank for being in this position."





	

**Author's Note:**

> If I can, I'd like to request a big round of applause to my beta, [Akira](http://archiveofourown.org/users/akira/pseuds/akira). Without you, this would still be in my revision folder, collecting dust. Thank you :) 
> 
> WARNING: Rough sex, incest, dub-con. Spoilers s02e19. 
> 
> Lookit. An _actual_ warning. Haven't written one of those in a while. 
> 
> Enjoy ;)

“I can do it.” 

“Sam...” Dean’s tone brokered no arguments. 

“No, Dean. Not this time.  _ I’ll  _ do it. I mean…” His cheeks reddened even though his gaze never strayed from his brother’s face. “I’ve done it before, so it’s not even that big of a deal.” 

Dean expelled his breath in a curse. “It’s not about… You know what? I’m not going to have this conversation with you. It’s either you do it or they do it, Sammy, because there’s no way anyone’s going to believe that the 220lb gigantor in Cellblock C was taken down by little ol’ me. It'll just make them want an even bigger piece than you're willing to provide.” 

He looked his brother in the eye. “It's gotta be me, Sam." 

Sam pursed his lips. He didn’t have an argument for that, at least not one that would actually work. "You know we don't actually have to  _ do _ anything, right?"

"A couple of bruises aren't gonna work this time." 

"Dean..."

"Dammit, Sam. You can't be with me every second of every day. Sooner or later..." Dean's voice broke. "Look. It's better this way. Just... do what we planned, okay? If they think you’re willing to bargain, they won’t try to corner me in the showers or something while you’re not there." 

Sam nodded. 

"And..." Dean grimaced. "Try not to let them rough me up too bad. Shouldn't be too hard," he said, trying for jovial and missing by a mile. "Those sasquatch arms have to count for something. And the whole serial-killer-who-fucks-his-brother image doesn't hurt either. Well..." 

It was Sam's turn to grimace at the thought of just how much Dean was going to be hurting after this. 

"Just try not to leave any permanent damage. And prep me good." 

"We might not even have to do this. Mick said a few days."

"And when have you known Mick to actually be on time?” 

Sam stayed silent. 

“Exactly. Okay.” Dean took a deep breath and bounced from foot to foot, loosening his limbs. “Let’s do this.” 

Sam swallowed hard and followed his brother out of their cell. He twisted his neck to the side and squared his shoulders. If he was going to play Alpha Male, he was going to do it right. They turned the corner and followed the line of prisoners down the hall, passing three COs before Sam caught the eye of a redneck who’d been eying Dean’s ass since the beginning of their stay. 

Sam smirked at him and placed a possessive hand on his brother’s shoulder. Dean’s muscles tightened, but the flinch was subtle. They passed a blind corner—no COs in sight for three paces—and Sam quickly leaned down to bite Dean’s neck. Dozens of pairs of eyes fell on him, but Sam ignored them in favor of watching the bruise blossom on his brother’s skin. 

He met the redneck’s eyes and grinned wolfishly.  _ Mine _ . 

The challenge had been issued. All that was left now was to wait. 

Sam grabbed his lunch and followed Dean to a table on the other side of the cafeteria. They ate lunch, had their rec time, and were escorted back to their cells, all without incident. Dinner came and went. The night checks came and went. And in the morning, Dean was even more tightly wound than he’d been the night before. 

"Winchester!" 

Both boys looked over at the CO calling their name. 

"Sam,” the CO distinguished. “You're on cleanup." 

Dean swallowed hard and forced a smirk onto his face. "Looks like you get to play French maid, Sammy." 

"Dean..." 

"Winchester!" 

Sam scrambled to the door with a quick grimace that Dean took as silent protest to the plan. Dean's smile fell off his face as soon as his brother was out of sight, but he followed the line of prisoners to the rec room, eyeing the COs scattered every few feet while they walked. Dean kept his limbs loose and at the ready while they passed a blind spot at a curve in the hall. 

A flicker of movement caught his eye just in time for him to avoid a strike at his head that would have sent him into the wall. Instead, the prisoner's fist slammed into concrete hard enough to make a loud thud on impact. Dean stepped under the man’s tattooed arm and sent an elbow straight into his sternum, quickly making his escape while Tatts caught his breath and nursed his aching hand. 

Before Dean could even smirk, a second fist caught him in the jaw, stunning him long enough that another caught him in the stomach. It wasn’t a practiced blow, but a hit was a hit, and Dean barely had time to recover before he spotted a flash of red hair, followed immediately by a blow to the chin. Red grabbed his wrist to pin his arm behind his back. Tatts grabbed his other wrist—his left hand cradled against his chest, Dean was glad to see—and brought them together behind his back. 

A third prisoner walked up to the restrained Winchester. 

“Look at this one, boys. Pretty, ain’t he?” 

He grabbed Dean’s chin and brought his face down until they were almost nose to nose. 

“I’m gonna have fun slipping my cock between those pretty lips of yours, boy.” 

Dean snarled and tried to punch the man in his rat face, but with Tatts and Red holding him down, he couldn’t do more than jerk against their hold. 

Rat grinned. 

“What say you we take him down to Chinatown, boys?” 

Dean shuddered as Tatts and Red pulled him away from the wall and down the now-empty corridor. Two minutes and all of the prisoners had skedaddled, leaving him to deal with Rat on his own. Not that Dean had expected any different, but the little hope that he’d had of rescue dimmed. 

They turned a corner that led to the showers, stopping at a checkpoint. Rat rapped on the door once and a CO buzzed them through, meeting them on the other side. 

“Just gotta get on cleanup, boss.” 

The CO looked at them suspiciously, eyes falling on Dean. “Who’s that?” 

“New guy. Just showin’ him the ropes.” Rat held out a twenty, and the CO caught it between his fingers and tucked it into his pocket. 

“Hurry it up. I don’t want you in there all day.” 

“Will do. Come on, kid,” Rat said, smirking at Dean. “We’ll show you how it’s done.” 

Dean had no choice but to follow Rat to the showers. The door closed behind them and Dean was unceremoniously shoved forward onto the ground. Before he could find his footing, a boot pressed against his back, holding him against the hard floor of the communal shower. Dean tried to pull himself up, but Tatts was heavy enough that the attempt was futile at best. He struggled as a hand moved slowly up his leg, stopping to grip his ass. Dean kicked out, foot hitting nothing but empty air. 

“Get the fuck offa me,” he growled. 

“Not just yet,” Rat said, pinching his ass before removing his hand completely. “Get him undressed. We’ve only got a couple minutes by ourselves before the others get here.” 

Tatts removed his foot from Dean’s back just long enough to flip him over. Dean was expecting it though, and he used the momentum to push himself to his feet. Before he could make it two steps, Red and Tatts were on him again, wrestling back down on the floor. Tatts placed his boot on Dean’s chest, effectively trapping him again.  

“Gonna have lots of fun with you, boy. It’s been awhile since we’ve had someone this sweet.”  

Rat straddled Dean’s thighs and lifted his shirt, exposing the small trail of hair that disappeared beneath Dean’s slacks. Rat fingered the hair, letting his finger slip beneath the waistband to play with Dean’s boxer-briefs. 

Dean’s breath hitched in his throat, fear taking hold of him at the thought of what was about to happen. 

“You fucking rat bastard! Let me go!” 

Rat just chuckled and continued playing with Dean’s waistband, allowing his fingers to caress Dean’s toned stomach and move around to the material at Dean’s hips.  

Even with his kicking, Rat was able to pull Dean’s pants down, leaving him bare to his captors. Dean stilled as Red approached with a shiv—what appeared to be the end of a toothbrush taped to a piece of broken glass—and held it to the tip of Dean’s soft cock. 

“Stay still while we undress you,” Red said. 

Dean swallowed hard and nodded. 

The pressure disappeared from his chest as Tatts moved to remove his boots. When he finished, Rat reluctantly stood so that Tatts could take Dean’s pants off, leaving him naked from the waist down. 

“Remove your shirts.” Red flicked the shiv in threat, and Dean hastened to comply. 

Completely naked, sitting on the floor of the showers, Dean couldn’t keep the fine tremor out of his limbs. Rat kneeled down beside him, and grabbed him by his hair, forced his neck back to peer into his eyes. He trailed his fingers over Dean’s lips. 

“Pretty soon, this mouth is going to belong to me.” 

Dean bit at Rat’s finger, teeth scraping flesh just an instant before they closed around air. Rat’s reflexes were good enough to avoid that much at least, but it was a close call. 

Rat snarled and smacked him across the face. 

“They’re here,” Red informed them. 

And all of the anger seemed to drain out of Rat, a vicious smirk taking its place. 

Seconds later, Dean could hear footsteps approaching, only two sets as far as Dean could tell. Still, five against one weren’t odds that Dean was too happy with, especially not with the lack of clothing. 

Red let the newcomers into the room, and Dean tried not to breathe a sigh of relief that Sam was one of the two new arrivals. The other was shorter—though everyone seemed short compared to Sam—with a long scar that started just above his eye and stopped somewhere beneath the collar of his shirt. 

Sam gave Dean a cursory glance before turning his gaze to Rat. “When you said you had a bitch, I didn’t realize you’d been talking about  _ my  _ bitch.” His tone reeked of disapproval, and Dean shuddered. 

“Ain’t no one put a claim on him,” Rat said petulantly. 

“I believe I did. Isn’t that right, Dean?” 

Dean swallowed hard and nodded. 

Sam’s face shifted from patient disappointment to rage in a split second. Before anyone knew what he was doing, Sam had crossed the room and lifted Dean to his feet by his hair, tall enough to look down on him even though Dean stood at full height. 

“When I ask you a question, you fucking answer it.” 

The tremble in Dean’s limbs grew. 

“Are you claimed?” 

Dean nodded hastily. “Yes. Yeah. I’m claimed.” 

“By who?” 

“You, Sammy.” 

Sam slapped him. 

“Sam! I meant Sam. You claimed me.” Dean tilted his head to the side, exposing his bite-bruised neck to the prisoners. 

“You’re mine, Dean.” Sam grinned and stroked his mark gently, letting his hand come around Dean’s head to cradle his neck. “And why are you mine?” 

Dean shuddered again. “Because we’re blood.” 

“That’s right. Good boy. And you’ll do anything I say, right?” 

Dean nodded again. “Yes, Sammy.” 

Sam didn’t bother correcting him this time. “What if I tell you to put your hands against that wall over there and spread your legs like a good bitch?” 

“Is that… Do you want me to do that, Sam?” 

“I do.” Sam nodded. 

Dean pulled away from Sam and did as he was told. He moved stiffly towards the opposite wall and spread his legs wide apart. Every muscle in his body was taut in anticipation of what was next. At least he could trust that Sam would keep everyone in line. With the two of them, things were considerably in their favor. 

A hand trailed down his back and smacked his ass. “Good boy.” 

“What the  _ fuck _ is going on?” Rat yelled. “You come in here, acting like you own the damn—” 

Sam grabbed Rat by the throat and shoved him against the wall. He wasn’t sure why none of the others moved to help Rat, but as long as they didn’t interfere, it didn’t really matter all that much. 

“Stop talking or I’ll squeeze until I see the life drain from your eyes. Got it?” 

Rat nodded. 

“Now. Are you going to listen, or do I need to give these boys a second bitch to fuck?” 

Rat bared his teeth, fight flaring in his eyes before he huffed and turned his gaze to the floor. 

“One more and you don’t walk out of here,” Sam warned him. 

He released Rat’s neck, letting the man catch his breath. Sam grabbed a small bottle of lube from his pocket and turned his attention back to Dean. Slicking up two fingers, he slipped them between Dean’s parted cheeks, just rubbing them over Dean’s hole. 

“Everyone here want a taste of the Winchester Bitch?” 

Dean gasped as Sam breached him with one finger. “Sam…” 

Sam looked at him with hard eyes. “Quiet, bitch. Your mouth wasn't made for talking.” 

Dean bit his lip as Sam pushed another finger inside of him. 

Tatts, Red, and Scar all shared the same look of predatory glee, matching grins appearing on each of their faces. 

“Yeah,” Tatts said. “We want a taste.” 

It was Sam’s turn to grin. “Get in line.” 

Rat glared. “You ain’t the boss of us.” 

Sam slid his eyes over to Rat, and the man’s flesh visibly pebbled under Sam’s gaze. 

“My bitch. My rules.” Sam slid a third finger inside of Dean, much too quickly. 

Pain flared inside of him, just enough to have him calling out in warning. “ _ Sam _ !” 

Sam turned to face him, gaze as hard as ice, and Dean’s eyes went wide at the coldness. Sam wrapped his hand around Dean’s neck and shoved him face-first into the wall, lifting him up onto his toes with the movement as the fingers left his body. Dean hadn’t planned on panicking, but this was a side of his brother he’d never really seen before, and the thought that maybe Sam would take roleplaying a little too far entered into his mind just seconds before he started struggling. 

Sam squeezed once in warning, and Dean took the hint. He let his arms fall to his sides, and he picked himself up higher on his toes. Sam leaned in close enough that Dean could feel hot breath on his cheek. 

“When I tell you to be quiet,” Sam said, voice measured. “You be quiet. Understand?” 

Dean swallowed hard, tongue thick and painful in his throat with the pressure of his brother’s hand. 

“ _ Understand? _ ” Sam squeezed tighter. 

Dean nodded frantically, and Sam’s hand eased up enough for him to breathe properly. Dean took in a shuddering breath, not even registering Scar’s half snort until he spoke up loud enough for Dean to really hear. 

“Enough playing house. Are we gonna do this or what?” 

Sam’s arm dropped completely from his neck as he turned toward Scar. Dean held his hand to his neck for a moment, still reeling from the abrupt change in Sam’s behavior. 

“Three books a fuck.” Sam looked at the men, lips pursed in distaste. “Four for you,” he said to Rat. 

“ _ What the fuck?! _ ” 

Sam smirked at him before turning to face the others. “He gets too rough with my brother, the price goes up. I suggest keeping him in line.” 

The other three inmates assessed Sam before turning to Rat with hard looks. 

“Ain’t gonna be a problem,” Tatts said. 

Rat nodded his acquiescence. 

“Bitch, get over here.” 

Dean swallowed hard one last time before making his way over to his brother’s side. 

Sam placed a possessive hand on his shoulder. “You pay up front. You use a condom. I see blood and you get it tenfold.” 

The inmates observed Sam’s rippling muscles and took him at face value. 

“How much for his mouth?” Tatts asked. 

“Two books.” He looked over at Rat. 

“Yeah, yeah… three for me.” Rat narrowed his eyes. “I got it.” 

“Everyone understand the rules? Or do I have to repeat them?” 

The inmates all shook their heads. 

“Good.”

Sam pushed Dean forward towards the other inmates. 

Tatts grinned at the look of horror on Dean’s face, but before he could so much as touch, Sam’s voice stopped him dead in his tracks. 

“Nuh-uh-uh.” Sam grinned. “You boys  _ pay _ to play.” 

Rat glared at Sam. “We ain’t got nothin on us.” He looked at his fellow inmates. “And I don’t get why we even gotta pay a dime. There’s only two of them and four of us. Just cause they’re actin tough don’t mean they can take us all. We ain’t no slouches. I say we do what we came to and teach that little bitch a lesson.” 

Sam glanced over him, the fire in his eyes belying the cool gaze. Without looking at the others, Sam spoke. “You pay or you leave. You can do it in a body bag or on your own two feet, but unless I have the books in my hand, no one lays a hand on my brother.” 

Rat sneered and grabbed Dean’s arm, pulling him closer. 

“You really shouldn’t’ve done that,” Dean said. 

He smirked and shoved his elbow into the inmate’s side, making him cringe in pain. Dean grabbed his wrist, twisting out of his hold, and used the pressure on his joint to bring the man to his knees. 

“How do you want him, Sammy?” 

The inmate screamed as Dean increased the pressure on his contorted wrist. 

Tatts and Red stepped back, half in surprise and half in trepidation at the quickness of the man they’d thought would be easy prey. Despite the weakness Dean had displayed earlier, they’d both seemed to have forgotten that the law had dubbed him just as dangerous as his brother. 

“Don’t kill him.” 

“Looks like you get to live another day,” Dean told him. Before Rat even realized what had happened, Dean struck him hard at the base of his neck, and he slipped into unconsciousness. Dean let his body fall unceremoniously to the floor. “Anyone else?” 

Tatts and Red looked at each other before glancing at Scar. 

“Nah, man. We’re good. Pay to play,” Scar said. 

Red nodded. 

“Good,” Sam said. “But if you’re broke, then tonight’s a bust, and my bitch needs her beauty sleep.” 

Sam grabbed Dean by the shoulder and started leading him out of the room. 

“Wait.” 

Sam turned around. 

“I, uh… I have a book.” 

Sam quirked his brow at the single book of stamps that Red held out toward him. “Two for his mouth. Three for his ass. Looks like you’re a little short.” 

“C’mon, man,” Tatts said. “You gotta give us a little something. What will one book get?” 

Sam pursed his lips and looked at Dean in what he hoped to be an appraising manner. He squeezed his shoulder once reassuringly before dropping his hand to cup his brother’s ass. 

“For one book? You get to watch.” 

Sam watched Red’s adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, but the man nodded and lifted the book for Sam to take. 

Sam plucked it from his fingers and slipped it into his shirt pocket. 

“No touching.” 

The three men nodded. 

He turned back to Dean. “Get on your knees.” 

Dean hesitated for a split second before remembering that this whole thing was his idea in the first place. Sam had adamantly refused to take part in all of this, but Dean had pushed it until Sam had no choice but to comply. No matter how easily Sam seemed to fall into the role, Dean only had himself to thank for being in this position. 

Cowed, Dean dropped to his knees in front of Sam, facing the bulge in his pants. 

“Get me out.” 

Dean hastened to comply. He tugged Sam’s pants down and reached inside to release Sam’s cock. It was large even as soft as it was. A spike of fear coursed through Dean at the thought of taking it inside of him. It would be more than a challenge. 

Sam grabbed Dean by the hair and forced him closer. “Suck,” he ordered. 

Dean opened his mouth and did as he was told. Sam’s cock slid inside, shallowly at first, and then deeper as Dean struggled to take him. Only half of his cock could fit in Dean’s mouth before he gagged, but Sam took it easy on him, letting Dean take only as much as he could, not pushing beyond that. 

Spit pooled around his mouth. The sound of him sucking his brother’s cock was wet and sloppy, making him blush. His eyes trailed over the voyeurs, not surprised in the least to see the obvious lust in their eyes. Scar cupped himself in his hand, rubbing at his erection through the layers of clothing. 

Disgust had Dean gagging around Sam’s cock before he closed his eyes against the images that assaulted his mind of them having their way with him. 

If Sam hadn’t showed…

Dean didn’t finish the thought. Sam  _ had _ showed, so all he had to do now was let Sammy fuck him and go back to his cell. Easy peasy. 

Sam pulled Dean off of him, a small smile softening his face. Dean’s lips were red and raw, and the shame-filled blush that stained his cheeks made Sam’s cock twitch. 

“Good boy,” Sam praised. “Hands and knees like the bitch you are.” 

Dean went scarlet as his hands dropped in front of him. Sam circled around and smacked him once on the ass, making Dean jump. He rubbed at Dean’s hole once more, putting just enough pressure on his perineum that Dean choked a gasp in surprise at the sparks of pleasure coursing through him. 

“You pretend  you don’t Dean, but we both know you like this.” Sam slid two fingers inside of him, making Dean hiss. “I bet I could make you beg for my cock. Think I could, bitch? Think I could make you beg?” 

Dean growled low in his throat. 

A hard slap startled him enough that he involuntarily fell back on Sam’s fingers, taking them even deeper inside. 

“Answer me when I ask you a question. Think I could make you beg, bitch?” 

Dean turned around and made eye contact with Sam. “Never.” 

Sam grinned. “We’ll see about that.” 

Sam fingered him filthily, the squelch of lube loud in comparison to the soft hitches of Dean’s breath. There was pain—of  _ course  _ there was pain—but it was nothing compared to what the others would have done to him. Lube would have been nothing but a dream, and his ass would have been broken open on one of their cocks without even a finger to stretch him before hand. 

This, though, was a mercy. 

Sam’s fingers opened him expertly, and Dean was all of a sudden grateful that it was him on hands and knees being opened up for his brother’s cock. Had it been Sam in front of him, Dean wouldn’t know the first thing about fingering someone open. 

“No need to keep quiet. There isn’t anyone around that doesn’t wanna hear you scream for me, Dean.” 

And Dean did scream. 

Sam’s fingers pressed over something inside of him that had him flinching in surprise as he let out a keening noise he’d never made in his life. His cock hardened beneath him, and he knew the others were getting a look at how aroused he’d become just from Sam’s fingers. It wasn’t what they’d intended to do or see when coming in here, but from the unmistakable bulges in their pants, Dean was sure they were far from complaining. 

“That’s right.” Sam pulled his fingers out of Dean, giving him a nice slick pat on the ass. “Opened right up, didn’t you?” 

Dean blushed. 

“ _ Didn’t you _ ?” Sam smacked him again, harder this time. 

“Yes!” 

“That’s right. And now all I have to do is get you to beg, don’t I?” 

“Yeah,” Dean answered breathlessly. He was harder than he’d been in his life, dripping onto the floor, and not even the fact that he was naked in a room full of perverted inmates, seconds from being fucked by his brother after he’d nearly been raped, could dim it. 

Sam kneeled behind him. His hand pressed between Dean’s shoulder blades, forcing him onto his forearms. Something warm and smooth pressed against his hole, and a shiver of anticipation crawled down Dean’s thighs. He couldn’t control the tremble that started in his limbs, but then Sam was pressing inside, cock filling him up slowly, and it was all Dean could do to concentrate on keeping his breathing steady and  _ not _ cry out when he got deep enough to put pressure on that spot inside him again. 

“Like what you see?” 

Dean couldn’t unclench his eyes long enough to see their wordless response, but whatever it was had Sam grabbing hold of his hips and shoving deep inside. 

Shock forced Dean’s eyes wide, white spots swimming in his vision, a mix of pain and pleasure that he’d never felt before. Dean wasn’t a virgin, not by any means, and there were few things he hadn’t tried with various partners, but he’d never done this before. His ass had always been off limits. What did it say about him that his brother was the only one who could ever have this? 

Dean couldn’t imagine anyone else doing this to him. It was Sam or no one. 

He didn’t even notice the movement of his hips until Sam smacked him again. 

“Be still.” 

“Sam…” 

_ Smack _ . “Be. Still.” 

Dean stopped moving, a whimper slipping between clenched lips. 

Dean could feel Sam’s cock inside of him. It wasn’t like he thought it’d be. He had anticipated the pain, but the dull burn wasn’t anywhere near the pain he’d imagined. And he’d never imagined the pleasure that could be wrought from having something inside him like this. If this was what women felt when he’d slid inside of them, he had a newfound appreciation for the moans and screams that had touched his ears over the years. 

It wasn’t anything like touching his cock. Sure, it was hard and leaking under him, but even if he could reach between his legs and stroke himself, Dean was certain that it wouldn’t hold the same intensity as the steady press of pleasure he could feel from Sam’s cock. 

And all this was without Sam even moving. 

“Dammit, Sammy.” 

Dean’s arms trembled with his weight. In training, he could hold this position for hours. But crawling on the floor with Sam’s cock inside of him, he didn’t think he could last another five minutes. Sweat beaded from his forehead, and his skin suddenly felt like it was on fire. He’d never felt anything like this. 

“What’s that, Dean?” Sam’s hands stroked up and down his back. 

“Fuck,” Dean panted. He pressed his hips back against Sam, wanting more.

Sam grabbed his hips and forced him still. “Not what I’m looking for, and you know it.” 

Dean moaned. “Come on.” 

Sam lowered himself to Dean’s ear. “Not until you beg,” he whispered. 

Dean held out as long as he could, let the arousal build inside of him until his cock throbbed with need. That  _ fucking spot _ kept making his stomach quiver. He could feel it low in his spine, a steady hum that vibrated through his whole body. 

“Please, Sam.” 

“Hmm?” 

“God, just fucking move!” 

Sam grinned. 

“ _ Please _ .” 

Achingly slowly, Sam pushed Dean forward off of his cock until only the bulbous head was left inside. Feeling Dean ripple around him, hole nearly empty, just begging to be filled, Sam pulled him back hard until his pelvis slammed into Dean’s ass. 

Dean groaned. 

A whispered, “yes,” touched Sam’s ears, and that was enough. 

The world disappeared around him as he laid into his brother. He steadied his thrusts so that he could rub against Dean’s prostate. Dean was sensitive, much more sensitive than any man Sam had been with, much more sensitive than Sam himself, even if Sam could come just riding someone’s cock. 

Dean, though, was a beauty. Sweat dripped down clenching back muscles, and the sound of frantic sex echoed through the room, loud moans and whimpers that Sam pulled from his brother mixed in with the rhythmic slap of flesh. 

“Sammy, Sammy, Sammy.” 

“So good, Dean.” 

Dean’s hole clenched achingly tight around him. Just as he let out a cry, Dean’s arms gave out, and Sam nearly came inside his brother at the sight of Dean shooting onto the floor just from being fucked by his little brother. 

Sam hadn’t thought it was possible without the buildup. The only partner Sam had ever had who could come from his ass alone needed days of pent-up frustration and an achingly good partner to get him off. Sam, himself, was nearly the same. Paired with a partner who knew what they were doing, Sam could get off after a good half-hour of steady fucking. Either that or a nice long prostate massage to start him out. 

Dean, though… It had barely been five minutes that Sam had been inside of him before he came. 

“So fucking good, Dean,” Sam praised. “God, wish you could see yourself.” 

The words broke through Dean’s endorphin-flooded brain and allowed something warm to settle in his chest. He’d never thought about it before, but now that he’d had him, Dean wasn’t sure he ever wanted to give Sam up. 

Sam continued his steady thrusts, stretching him open even as his cock pulsed his release. 

It was a different fullness, Dean decided, being filled with his brother’s come. His passage got slicker, Sam’s thrusts speeding up as the squelching got louder. It was filthy, Dean knew, but he couldn’t bring himself to feel bad about it as a small bit of come pulsed from his slowly softening cock. 

Sam cleared his throat, bringing them both back to the present. He pulled out of Dean, wincing slightly, and patted him on the ass as he rose. Dean’s hole closed tight without Sam inside to keep him open, and Sam shivered at the thought that every single drop of his come was still inside his brother. 

None of them had their cock out, but Sam knew they’d gotten off while watching him and Dean. Three matching spurts of come stained the floor of the showers, one in front of each inmate, and the leering grin Tatts gave him told him that they’d definitely enjoyed the show. 

Red licked his lips and took a step toward Dean before Sam’s gaze zeroed in on him, promising violence. 

“You get what you pay for,” Sam told them. “And you didn’t pay for that.” 

Red swallowed hard at the threat and stepped back. 

Satisfied that none of them were gonna try anything, Sam tucked himself back in and made his way over to the heaping pile of dead weight in the corner. He flipped Rat onto his back and knelt beside him, slapping him across the face hard enough to pull him out of his previously unconscious state. 

“Wh- What? What the fuck you doin?” 

Sam slapped him again for good measure. “Wake up.” 

“Get your fuckin hands offa me.” 

This time, Sam wasn’t so nice. He let a quick jab of his fist catch Rat in the chin, just enough to stun. He grabbed Rat by the front of the shirt and brought them nose to nose. 

“I put my hands where I want to put them. If that means I want to put them on my brother, I put them on my brother.” 

Rat’s eyes darted over to Dean, widening slightly. 

“If that means I want to put them on your lackeys, I put them on your lackeys.” 

Sam saw Rat’s eyes shift to Dean’s naked form and to the puddles of come littering the shower floor. 

“If that means I want to put them on you, I put them on you.” Sam grabbed Rat’s hair with his other hand, pulling his neck back to force Rat to look him in the eye. “And there’s nothing you can do to stop me. Understand?” 

Rat nodded frantically and grimaced at the pain that lanced through him from the grip in his hair. 

“Good.” Sam released him and stood. “All of you out. If I see any of you try anything with my brother without my permission, Dean won’t be the only bitch I own.” 

The room was clear in seconds. 

Breathing a silent sigh of relief that they’d gone without a fight, Sam turned his attention back to Dean. His brother kneeled on the floor, too sensitive to sit down correctly, with a half-blank look on his face that was more concerning to Sam than anything else. 

“How did you know?” Dean asked, voice rough like he was trying to hold back tears. 

“I went looking for you, and when I couldn’t find you, I asked around. Apparently, this isn’t the first time Larson and his cronies have added someone to the clean-up crew.” 

Not Rat,  _ Larson _ . For some reason, Dean wasn’t sure the name suited the man. He preferred calling him Rat. 

“Thought you had kitchen duty.” It was meant as a teasing remark, something that they could both laugh at and feel relief over because it meant nothing bad had happened to Dean, but the look on Sam’s face made Dean’s smile freeze on his face. “Sam?” 

Sam looked at him, face blank. 

“You had kitchen duty. Why were you looking for me?” 

Sam spoke slowly. “I came to tell you that Mick has everything ready to go. We can stage the breakout whenever we’re ready.” 

“So this…?” 

Sam looked away.

“This wasn’t for them at all, was it.” There wasn’t even a question in Dean’s voice. He knew. 

“No.” 

Dean swallowed hard once, steeling himself to what he was about to do. 

Sam flinched as Dean’s hand came around his neck. He struggled not to fight when Dean pulled him forward, but he didn’t expect the feather-light press of lips against his own. Before he could reorient himself, the kiss was over. 

Dean’s hand dropped from Sam’s neck, and bright green eyes peered deep into his own. 

“Good.” 

Sam was confused. “Good?” 

“Yeah. Good.” Dean stood up and found his clothes, slipping each article of clothing on as he found it. By the time Dean’s shoes were on, Sam could admit to himself that he had absolutely no idea what Dean meant. 

“Dean…” 

Dean sighed. “Quit with the freakout. You’re gonna get your shit together. We’re gonna get outta here. And then you and I are gonna find a nice quiet motel where you can teach me a thing or two about that thing inside me that had me seeing fucking stars.” 

Sam was dumbfounded. “Prostate,” he choked out. 

“What?” 

“It was, um…” A light blush rose to Sam’s cheeks. “It was your prostate.” 

Dean smiled. “Good to know. Can we get outta here now?” 

Sam looked around at the various fluids coating the floor and grimaced. “Yeah. Let’s go.” 

**Author's Note:**

> What's that? Comments? For me? Oh, you shouldn't have. (except that you really, really should *nods vigorously*)


End file.
